


Here

by MelyndaR



Category: Psych
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-22 23:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20000569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelyndaR/pseuds/MelyndaR
Summary: When tragedy strikes, Juliet, Shawn, and Gus are willing to go to great lengths to help a friend.





	Here

**Author's Note:**

> So, in my mind, this is Gus/Shawn/Juliet, and pre-Gus/Shawn/Juliet/Lassiter, but it can be read with whatever pairings you like in mind, to be honest.

“O’Hara? It’s Carlton Lassiter. I’m sorry I keep calling, I’m sure you’re busy, but I just… don’t know who else to talk to. It’s Marlow… and Lily. They were in a car accident, a pile-up, and… and I would appreciate it if you would call me back. Thanks, partner.”

* * *

“Carlton Lassiter, you left seventeen voicemails on my phone across two days; you don’t get to give me radio silence now. I know you’re getting some of these calls. Call me back in the next hour, or I’ll make Shawn tell his dad to go check on you and report back to me.”

* * *

“Dad, it’s me, Shawn. Juliet, Gus, and I went on a weekend away, and I convinced Juliet and Gus to leave their phones turned off the whole time – so no work calls, right? – only when we got back, Lassie had blown up Jules’ phone over the weekend with a bunch of voicemails, and she’s worried about him, and I’m worried about both of them, and Gus—”

“Shawn?”

“Dad! Hey, Dad. Is Lassie okay?”

“No, Shawn, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but he isn’t.”

“He said something about the missus and their munchkin being in a car wreck?”

“They died – on impact, but they died.”

“Oh… oh man. Lassie?”

“Is a wreck. It’s really bad, Shawn.”

“How bad?”

“They’ve promoted a new acting chief to give him time off, and he’s been holed up in his apartment. He won’t let anyone in his place, and he won’t answer our calls. Won’t make contact with anyone, so far.”

“What if you went and checked on him?”

“I have, Shawn, six times. I started leaving him groceries outside the door when his landlady told me he literally hadn’t been leaving his place.”

“Not at all?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, then. I tell you what, Dad, I’ll see you soon, alright?”

* * *

“Carlton Lassiter, you open this door, or I will break it down!” Juliet called out after her fourth attempt at knocking on Chief Lassiter’s front door like a civilized person. “You have until the count of three! One! Tw—”

The door swung open to reveal an entirely too haggard Carlton Lassiter. Everything about him put Juliet in mind of when he’d thought his apartment was haunted, and she didn’t like it. She shoved past him into his apartment without asking for permission, and instead asked, “How are you?”

“O’Hara…” he said slowly, looking for all the world to still be half asleep as he stood there in his bathrobe and pajama pants. “You’re here?”

“Of course I’m here.” She stopped gazing over his half-trashed apartment to give him a careful once-over instead. “Henry told us what happened to Marlow and Lily. I’m so sorry, Carlton. We would’ve been at the funeral if we had known. As it is, we came as soon as we heard. I’m so, so sorry.”

He shrugged, finally getting around to shutting his front door, even if he did it a little too hard. “Nothing can be done now. What’s done is done, and I know you mean well, O’Hara, but ‘sorry’ doesn’t help, either.”

“Then how _can_ I help?”

He shook his head again before offering, “Take my trash down to the dumpster on your way out?”

At that insinuated invitation to go, Juliet narrowed her eyes at him before she went back to gazing around the apartment. “When was the last time you took your own trash out? Or picked up your own trash just from the floor? Or the coffee table? Or the countertop? And when was the last time you took a shower or changed clothes? Brushed your hair and tee—”

“What are you, my mother now?” he snapped, opening the front door again. “Because that certainly won’t help, so, thank you for coming, but why don’t you just go?”

“Because I want to help you,” she answered calmly, prying his hand off the doorknob and shutting them into his apartment together. “So, I am going to stay here for a little while. I am going to sort through some of this mess, while you go take a shower, change, and brush your hair and teeth. Then when you get out, we can discuss whether you want to go out to get something to eat or have Shawn and Gus bring something here.”

“Spencer and Guster are here?” he asked, aghast, eyes darting to his front door again as if he expected them to break it down and run in like Juliet had threatened to.

“They came into town with me, but they’re with Henry right now. I can call them, if you’d like me to – they could help me get more done around here – but right now, _you_ ,” she gave him a gentle nudge towards the hallway. “Need to go put yourself back together a little bit.”

He stared at her, almost blankly, and she raised her eyebrows, not about to be intimidated, let alone disobeyed. “Go, Lassiter, or I will call Swagerty and tell him what’s going on here.”

Carlton’s expression cooled, but he went while muttering something indistinguishable under his breath. Juliet waited until she heard the water for the shower turn on before she did as Carlton had suggested and started to gather up eleven days’ worth of trash from around the apartment.

Eleven days. Her friend’s wife and daughter had been dead for eleven days before she – or Shawn or Gus – had found out about it, and he had, by all reports, been living like _this_ since the crash. She made a mental note to pay better attention to how often Shawn called his dad as she simultaneously thought to hope that her “tough love” on Carlton hadn’t been _too_ tough right away.

By the time Carlton came out of the bathroom, looking much more like normal human being even if he was still wearing pajamas in the middle of the day, Juliet had taken out all the trash she could find, swept the kitchen, and loaded the dishwasher. She was in the middle of vacuuming when he emerged, and she turned off the vacuum to say with an approving smile, “That’s much better. Now, when was the last time you ate?”

She must have gotten him to understand that she wasn’t going to be intimidated into going away, because he answered right away, “Breakfast this morning.”

“What did you eat?”

He sighed a little at her. “I had coffee, O’Hara, like I do every morning. I’m not a complete basket case, you know.”

“You look like you feel a little better now,” she pointed out.

Carlton hesitated before admitting almost begrudgingly, “A little.”

“Good. Now, when was the last time you ate _real_ food? And whatever was in those dozen pizza boxes that I took to the dumpster doesn’t count.” That question gave him real pause then, and the fact that he had to actually _think_ about what his response should be was answer enough for her. “Right. New plan. Shawn and Gus are going grocery shopping. They’re going to buy real food – or at least Gus will – and they’re going to bring it here, and the four of us are going to make a good dinner, and I am going to make sure that you eat it.”

“In what world do you live,” he asked, though his tone didn’t carry quite the same peevishness as before. “Where it’s a good idea for me to make dinner with _Spencer_?”

“The world where you haven’t been around anyone for a week and a half? You need to get back out among the living, Carlton.”

“And you want me to start with Spencer?”

“No, you started with me, but Shawn does come next – along with Gus, if that helps?” He stared at her without saying a word, so she offered, “Unless you want to go eat out, actually in public?”

Confronted with actual options, she barely heard him when he muttered, “I’ll deal with Spencer.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, then called Gus with the grocery list she’d been mentally preparing as she cleaned up Lassiter’s apartment.

* * *

Her boys showed up an hour later, Gus carrying three bags of groceries, Shawn carrying a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. Which hadn’t been on her list, but she was neither surprised, nor objecting. She and Carlton had been talking and making quick work of cleaning up the rest of his apartment while they waited for Shawn and Gus.

Well, Juliet had finally got Carlton talking, and she had just been listening, which was what her friend ultimately seemed to need most anyway. Their intentions of cleaning had fallen by the wayside quicker than she had expected them to as they’d ended up on the couch together, Juliet just holding his hands while he talked – and even cried – out his pain.

Standing from the couch when a knock sounded at his door, Carlton quickly dashed away the last of the tears that had fallen out of his eyes while Juliet let Shawn and Gus in. Gus, sensing the mood in the room, gave Carlton a careful smile as he took a few steps towards the kitchen, offering only, “Hi, Lassiter.”

Carlton was quiet and hurting enough that he didn’t even have the energy to be irritated with the boys’ presence after his conversation with Juliet. He just offered Gus a tight-lipped half-smile and a nod. “Guster.”

Shawn, however, as always, was not bound by what was… socially normal. He handed the ice cream off to Gus, who adjusted his bags for the weight of it and dangled the container by it’s handle on one finger so as not to drop anything. Juliet moved to help Gus as Shawn enveloped Carlton in a hug. A brief, half-hearted look of irritation flashed across Carlton’s face, but he didn’t fight this gesture, either, resting his chin on Shawn’s shoulder and letting himself be hugged even if he didn’t reciprocate it.

“Don’t you worry, Lassie,” Shawn said, and even though it was pretty much impossible for him to calm the energy that came with just _being_ _Shawn_ , he was using his softest, kindest voice. “You’re not alone. We’re here now, and we’re going to get you all fixed up and back to your lovely, sardonic self.”

As Juliet and Gus looked on, Carlton miraculously began to relax in Shawn’s hold before he muttered, “Thanks, Spencer. Now, let go, will you?”

_This was excellent behavior for those two together._

Gus shot Juliet a look of surprise as she decided that maybe Shawn and Carlton could be left alone together for a minute and led Gus into the kitchen to put away the groceries. “Do you think Shawn’s right?” Gus asked Juliet, worried and quiet as he took a box of pasta out of a shopping bag. “Do you think _we’re_ going to be enough to help Lassiter through this?”

“He doesn’t really have anyone else now,” Juliet said, worrying at her lip before she straightened her shoulders resolutely, adding, “So we’re definitely going to try.”

She leaned backwards to peer through the kitchen doorway into the living room, seeing Shawn reach to try and straighten up Carlton’s hair. Carlton batted his hands away with another flash of annoyance passing through his eyes; he was already looking a little more like his old self now that “the gang was all here.”

“And maybe,” she said almost to herself more than to Gus. “We’ll really succeed.”


End file.
